


ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

by lunarumbra



Series: lover [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Miya Four, Self-Indulgent, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, osamu cries tears of joy, they're so in love with their s/o's: the fic!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarumbra/pseuds/lunarumbra
Summary: “Are ya crying?”“No,” Osamu replies but there’s telltale redness around his eyes and his voice comes out sounding a little scratched and too breathy.Atsumu laughs under his breath and swipes at Osamu’s eyes with a gentle motion. “Yer such a big baby, did I ever tell ya that? Yer pictures are gonna look so ugly later.”Or: Osamu promised himself he wasn't going to cry during the wedding. He does.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Sakusa Kiyoomi & Suna Rintarou
Series: lover [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063721
Comments: 8
Kudos: 292
Collections: kagsivity's fic archive





	ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

Suna comes into view and Osamu’s breath, as it always does, gets taken away by his beauty. He’s wearing a three-piece suit in deep burgundy and his hair is in its trademark style, a few stray hairs sticking out at the top even when he’s tried so hard to comb them down perfectly. Osamu, on the other hand, is wearing an elegant black suit and tie, and his hair had been re-dyed to a majestic shade of gray perfect for the occasion. 

Suna’s eyes easily find Osamu’s and they share a private smile. 

He starts to walk slowly but with purpose, with grace, and the morning light behind him gives him a beautiful glow. 

It takes Osamu back to the first time he met Rintarou in middle school, sunshine beaming down on him like some kind of heaven’s blessing as Aran introduces them to each other. He remembers the washed out fluorescent lights of Inarizaki High School’s gymnasium that used to accentuate the lines of Rintarou’s muscles. He thinks of the sunrise when he finally confessed, of the cinematic colors from the theater house where they shared their first kiss, and of the television screen they bought together when they first moved in their apartment.

“What a wedding, huh?” Suna says quietly when he eventually takes his place beside Osamu. They find each other’s hands without trouble and their fingers are automatically intertwined like vines.

Osamu hums. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Which is an understatement, Osamu thinks belatedly. The shrine grounds where the ceremony is being held is beautiful; _breathtaking_ even. A mist hangs lowly from the morning rain, which gives the place another touch of romance. It’s peaceful and serene, like some scene from a picturesque—

Atsumu whistles with great amusement. “This place looks great! Don’t ya think so, Omi-omi? Hey, we should take lots of pictures later so we could show Shoyou-kun and the others. Do ya think they’ll allow us to wander around after the ceremony?”

Sakusa dusts his clothes with careful precision. He rolls his eyes but Osamu sees the hint of endearment behind his intent. “Do you have to be so loud so early in the morning? And keep still, if you ruin your clothes, I’m not going to take any pictures with you.”

“So you’re finally admitting I look good in ‘em?”

“Well, Osamu looks good in black.” Sakusa says instead which Atsumu thinks is the weirdest fucking way to compliment him.

But whatever, he’ll take it.

“Good. I chose his suit m’self. It’s tailor fit too.” Atsumu says instead of _Yeah? Shut up and eat dirt, Omi-Omi_ because a part of him does fear the wrath of ancient gods and deities and well, weddings _do_ demand some sort of decorum from him after all. 

He comes up to Osamu and fixes his tie with deft fingers. “Oh, ‘Thank you so much Atsumu for making sure yer brother looks amazing!’ Yer very welcome, by the way, Sunarin.”

“I do not sound anything like that.” comes Rintarou’s reply.

And Osamu, although thankful for the assistance, rolls his eyes. “Yer ruining the atmosphere.”

“Can’t keep yer hands away from each other, will ya? Save the romance for later.”

“Weddings are all about romance, ya idiot.”

“Have some decency, the two of ya! Omi-omi, c’mon. Tell them they’re bein’ gross again.”

Sakusa smirks and does as he’s told because Atsumu has apparently classically conditioned him to think that insulting Osamu and Rintarou would bring him happiness.

Alright, maybe that’s a stretch but still - Osamu thinks it’s the mutual need for chaos that ultimately brought the two together. 

Maybe. 

_Possibly_.

Rintarou laughs a little and takes a sneaky photo when Osamu lightly pushes at Atsumu. ”Can’t believe this is what I’m getting myself into.”

“You already thinking of a divorce this early on?” Sakusa hides his laugh behind his sleeve.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, as did Osamu. 

Atsumu glares. “Deal with it, Sunarin. In case ya forgot, ‘Samu and I come in a buy-one-get-one-free kind of thing.”

“Unfortunately so.” Osamu, Rintarou, and Sakusa simultaneously reply in various tones of (mock?) annoyance, to which both the twins respond with a resounding and indignant “HEY!!” to each other’s offending romantic partner.

Before a squabble could break out from their side, there comes a dignified warning from one of the shrine maidens. “Please keep quiet,” she says and pointedly tries not to roll her eyes. “Sato-san has arrived.”

Sato-san, or Shinsuke Sato, is the head priest of the shrine grounds. He is also coincidentally Kita-san’s grandfather, so that is to say that he has been a witness to the many of the twins’ chaos. He doesn’t even look surprised to see them pushing at each other at what is supposed to be a serious and formal event.

Either way, the crowd falls in quiet solemnity when he approaches. He takes a good look at the families gathered in front of him and when he stands to face the twins and Rintarou, there is already a knowing smile on his face.

He holds quiet amusement in his eyes as if he’s saying _Who would have thought, huh boys?_ After all, Sato-san liked teasing his grandson as well as Atsumu and Osamu - and by extension, Rintarou - so this feels a little familiar. 

_Look how far we’ve all come,_ seems to be the message behind the priest’s smile. 

And Osamu, with his whole heart, agrees with the sentiment. 

Beside him stands Rintarou, a constant figure in his life who was once just a friend, just a teammate.

Atsumu steps a little closer to Sakusa, almost as if his hands are itching to hold him. Sakusa closes the gap between them with a little shuffle and their shoulders touch.

Atsumu - who used shut people out, who was so used to hiding behind walls. He’s not alone anymore, too. 

Look how far they’ve come, indeed.

Then, Sato-san says: “Shall we?” and he, along with the shrine maidens, lead them to the pavilion. 

A beautiful tune erupts from their flutes and the wedding rites finally begin.

Once when they were in high school, on the very rare occasion that they were not preoccupied with volleyball, schoolwork, household chores, or binge watching reruns of ‘Cooking with Dog’, Atsumu and Osamu had a conversation about their ideal weddings. 

And as ordained by the governing body of twin relationships, the two of them disagreed on most, if not all, things. 

It starts innocently enough. Osamu prefers a long engagement before tying the knot, while Atsumu thinks he will marry within a year of getting engaged. Osamu’s reception party will serve glasses of champagne, whilst red wine will be overflowing in Atsumu’s. A light color motif for Osamu, dark and classy for Atsumu. No flowers, _yes_ flowers; yes prenuptials, absolutely no pre-nuptials (none of them quite understood the concept yet at that time but they liked to argue about it anyway); reading personal vows versus keeping it private, and _‘Tsumu there is literally no romantic bone in your body, this is probably why I’m getting married before ya are!_ —

Quite surprisingly, Atsumu agrees on this one.

But then the conversation descends to the biggest disagreement of that day: marriage itself.

Atsumu prattled on and on about how he doesn’t see himself getting tied down anyway. He also highlighted the fact that he’s too preoccupied with volleyball and securing his professional career to even bother with dating. Solid evidences are of course the number of confessions he has rejected both inside and outside their school grounds, and the fact that he has never asked anyone out at all. Ever.

He’s not interested, he says. And even if he were, he doubts that anyone would want to put up with him. 

It was the earliest admission of insecurity regarding relationships Osamu has ever witnessed from his twin. _They probably wouldn’t stick around with me for too long_ , he had said nonchalantly. 

It was gut-wrenching, to say the least. Vulnerability was not something Atsumu liked to show but in the rare moments that he showed any semblance of it kicked Osamu in the gut. 

_You’ll find someone who’ll stand ya_ , is what he had replied in a weak attempt at consoling his brother but Atsumu had just shrugged his shoulders. The topic is dropped and Osamu has half the mind not to bring it up again.

Osamu, on the other hand, has actually thought about his future wedding in great detail. 

Maybe even too much for a high school student but he likes to think that he’s the more romantic twin between the two of them. 

And additionally, he’d been practically dating Rintarou in his head for a solid two years now - it’s embarrassing, _sure_ , but it’s not like he’s not going to do anything about it. He _will,_ as soon as he finds the courage because the only person he can ever picture himself with in his ideal wedding is, well, Rintarou himself. 

The number of times he has practiced saying _Miya Rintarou_ and _Suna Osamu_ is Embarrassing - yes, with a capital E! - and he vows to himself never to speak of this to Atsumu lest he wants to suffer from teasing for the rest of his forsaken life. But the desire burns deep in his chest. It’s all-consuming. This stupid crush that spiraled into something deeper has made him this monster of a romantic.

He considers a modern wedding in a nice chapel.

A traditional Shinto wedding does not sound too bad either. 

But it doesn't matter, as long as it’s Rintarou. 

It _has_ to be him.

_Yer turning red,_ he remembers Atsumu’s gremlin of a smile. He was packing up for training camp that time, blissfully unaware of the many ways his life is going to change in the Ajinomoto Training Center. _Ya thinkin’ about Sunarin and yer honeymoon? Bet ya are, ya fuckin’ ingrate._

Cue the screaming, the kicking, and the punching.

He huffs at the memory and this prompts Rintarou to mercilessly dig his elbow on Osamu’s side. A weak _‘ow’_ doesn’t stop Rintarou from raising his eyebrows in suspicion.

“Please tell me you’re not actually spacing out,” he says.

“I’m paying attention!” he whispers back.

They’ve finally made their way inside the hall where the ceremony proper will be conducted. Multiple lanterns hang from the ceiling that bathe the pavilion in a beautiful, orange glow; there is also the faint smell of burning incense sticks that fill the room with a calming aroma. 

Sato-san walks forward and takes his position in the middle of the pavilion, and then instructs them to take their seats. 

There’s a few beats of shuffling. 

Osamu sees Sakusa pause, before he looks to Atsumu and tugs at his sleeve. His brother smiles and surprisingly (see: _unsurprisingly_ ) materializes a folded white cloth tucked in his obi. 

He pats down Sakusa’s cushion and then covers it with the material and that’s only when Sakusa sits. There’s an appreciative smile on his face and Atsumu merely pats Sakusa’s hand with gentle understanding.

“And they said _we_ were being gross,” Rintarou says quietly.

Osamu bites down a laugh. “I know.”

When everyone is finally settled, Sato-san picks up a sacred text and reads the written scripture. With a level tone, he announces the union in front of the watchful eyes of the gods. 

From the other side of the room, Osamu could see that their mother was already dabbing at her wet eyes.

“To love,” Sato-san says after a moment of contemplative silence, “is both the easiest and the hardest thing to do.”

“I can imagine that this saying also heavily applies when one is in a relationship with either twins,” he jokes and the attendees laugh.

Atsumu and Osamu look to each other and roll their eyes while Rintarou and Sakusa share a knowing look. They’re probably telepathically giving each other high-fives, those treacherous bastards.

Sato-san shushes the audience and then continues: “It is easy because it is only natural for us to love someone for their beauty, their kindness, their dreams, and their passions.”

Osamu knows this: he can’t pinpoint the exact moment when he knew he loved Rintarou. Like dominoes tumbling one after the other, down, down, _down_ they go but he can’t trace back what pushed the first piece over in the first place. 

(Sharing an umbrella during a downpour, hot packs on cold winter days, lunches on rooftops, conquering demons on and off court, falling asleep on his shoulder, choosing their own paths, achieving their dreams _together_ , drunk on cheap beer, whispers of encouragement, brushing his hair from his face with tender eyes, readjusting his scarf, laughter unbridled — _he doesn’t know. He thinks it doesn’t matter, anyway.)_

Osamu also knows this truth: it _is_ easy to love Rintarou.

Sato-san speaks again after another pause. 

“But then we see their horns, their anger, their mischief, their failures, and their weaknesses. Suddenly, love is the most difficult thing to do.”

He inhales and Rintarou hums beside him.

Osamu _also_ knows this: words can be laced with venom, a sword can be used as a shield.

(The look of disappointment, _What do you mean you’re quitting? Atsumu might be right about this one_ , yelling, _I don’t remember asking for yer fuckin’ opinion,_ denial, pushing each other away, miscommunication, erecting walls, being too afraid, prioritizing their pride — he knows. _He knows._ )

(He thinks of Atsumu, crying on the phone and choking on his own sobs, angry, defeated, and _I love him, ‘Samu. How can I make this hurt less?)_

Osamu knows this quite well, too: that to love someone is to give them the power to hurt you.

Sato-san continues: “It is also very easy to give up but when we find something worth keeping, worth loving, then we have no choice but to walk even the most difficult of paths.”

Rintarou takes Osamu’s hand in his and traces a gentle promise on his skin. 

He is reminded of their apologies, Rintarou’s butterfly kisses on his chest.

Their promises to be better, to never give up on what they have.

He also thinks about Sakusa and the first time he ever texted Osamu. _Do you think he will ever give me another chance?_

“What a wedding,” Osamu says quietly. A little brokenly. Rintarou pats his handkerchief to dry his cheeks.

“Ugh. I hate this. I’m goin’ to sue the whole Shinsuke family, Kita-san included.”

Ears ever so sharp, Atsumu suddenly turns to him. Thankfully, Sato-san is unperturbed by the action.

“Are ya _crying?_ ” 

“No,” Osamu replies but there’s telltale redness around his eyes and his voice comes out sounding a little scratched and too breathy.

Atsumu laughs under his breath and swipes at Osamu’s eyes with a gentle motion. “Yer such a big baby, did I ever tell ya that? Yer pictures are gonna look so ugly later.”

“Yer gross. Don’t touch me,” Osamu says but lets it happen anyway. 

Before Atsumu could say anything again, Sakusa pulls at him, his fingers tugging at Atsumu’s haori. “You say that as if you weren’t crying as soon as you stepped out of the car.”

And alright, Atsumu can’t quite defend himself against that one.

He spares another look at his twin before he lets Sakusa reel him in again. He watches Sakusa from the corner of his eyes — and he agrees with the priest: if he gets to live this lifetime with Kiyoomi by his side, then he’d be more than willing to walk on coals and more. 

And so, _so_ much more, just for him

He whispers this to Sakusa and a soft blush blooms on his face. “Careful,” Sakusa smiles a little devilishly, “I might just buy coals for tonight.”

“I know that was s’pposed to be a threat but that just sounds fuckin’ kinky, you know that right?”

Sakusa scoffs behind his sleeve. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be cursing in front of a priest.”

“Yer so annoying, did I ever tell ya that?”

“Every single day, with no fail.”

“Can I call you annoying for the rest of eternity?”

A thoughtful pause.

Sakusa turns to him. He studies his face for a while. “Eternity is quite long, Atsumu.”

“Not with you, my love.” Atsumu says breathlessly. “It might not even be long enough if it’s with you.”

— his eyes sting and his throat fills with cotton, and now _he’s_ the one who’s crying. There’s a wet trail on his face and Sakusa tenderly thumbs away those that continue to fall. 

Sato-san finishes his message with a knowing smile. Osamu dries his eyes just in time for the maidens to bring out the two nuptial cups and the rice sake. 

Three pourings for marriage oaths, for three promises, for a lasting union.

The first cup is dedicated to their ancestors — _thank you for leading me to him, to my husband. I promise to love him as he deserves and more._

The second cup is for their marriage — _may we always be united in this lifetime and in the next._

And the third cup is for their families — _thank you for letting me in your lives. I will not desecrate your trust._

Cue more tears, more sniffles. 

Then: 

Sakusa’s voice is gentle. “Atsumu,” he says, almost reverent.

Atsumu smiles, the soft and gentle one he reserves only for him, and takes Sakusa’s hand in his.

It’s Sakusa who tugs him closer. His other hand settles on Ataumu’s nape and he strokes his skin with familiar intimacy. Atsumu relaxes to the touch. 

“You’re crying again,” Sakusa whispers in the space between them.

Atsumu smiles, sheepish. “Am I?” he says and reaches to wipe his tears but Sakusa catches his wrist gently and then uses the sleeve of his haori to dry Atsumu’s eyes. 

“'You're such a big baby', he says. Eugh.” Sakusa pulls him closer and Atsumu laughs this time. 

“Yer getting braver with each passin’ second ya spend with me. ‘Tis is why people think ‘m a bad influence on ya. Omi-omi, are we really ‘bout to kiss in front of all of these people? On sacred grounds? ‘S not like ya at all. What would yer mother say?”

The hand on Atsumu’s nape whacks at him with little force. “Do you ever shut up,” Sakusa says with little bite. It bleeds with fondness. 

“It’s literally our wedding.”

“Is it? Didn’t notice.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “Miya _.”_

And Atsumu exhales a breath. 

His chest bursts with tender affection as he leans in closer, closer, _closer_ to Sakusa’s face and says: “Yes, _Miya_?”

(When Atsumu came home from his training camp when he was in his second year in high school, he said to Osamu: _hey I think dating's not that bad after all_ because in the confines of the Ajinomoto Training Center, his life tilted at its axis. _There’s this boy that I met and I think I want to annoy him for the rest of my life._ )

Sakusa smiles before he captures Atsumu’s lips with sincerity. 

It’s tender and it tastes like rice wine, like trust, like easy love and difficult terrains, like midnight conversations when they both can’t sleep, like that certain brand of tea Sakusa _\- no, Miya now -_ brings with him everywhere they go, like winning, like letting go, like stupid nicknames and equally stupid fights, like tears, like he’s been waiting for too long for this wedding, like an oath of forevermore.

  
_I love you_ , Kiyoomi seems to say. _Only you._

**Author's Note:**

> if you reached this far: thank you so much for reading! ♡ please let me know what you think. you can also find me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/for950808)
> 
> fic title is from taylor swift's 'lover'
> 
> just to clarify a few things:
> 
> \- i am not japanese and i do not wish to give the impression that i am well-versed with their culture esp. with the shinto wedding i tried to depict  
> \- i watched [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UeJQMvydpzQ&t=2s&ab_channel=Japanagos%EF%BC%88%E3%82%B8%E3%83%A3%E3%83%91%E3%83%8A%E3%82%B4%E3%82%B9%EF%BC%89) and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJ2WZEIE7X0&ab_channel=nigoten2510movie), and read a number of articles and personal blogs as my references for the wedding  
> \- i don't think there's a 'you may now kiss!' part in traditional weddings but i added it for the plot. additionally: shinto priests DO NOT deliver speeches/anecdotes during wedding rites.  
> \- the couple's families sharing sake, exchanging of wedding bands, and reading of vows are also part of the wedding procedures but i cut them from the fic  
> \- sakuatsu's kiss was the first scene i wrote for this fic and was inspied by [this](https://twitter.com/incorrectskts/status/1327845583520841729?s=20) prompt on twitter  
> \- the couple getting married actually stay in the center of the pavilion while the ceremony is on-going, and their family members are seated far from the side. but for this fic, i pictured that osamu and rintarou are sitting pretty close to atsumu (hence atsumu was able to wipe osamu's tears hehe i just really wanted that scene in the fic ok!!!)


End file.
